?Chapter 325:


    Christina let out a sharp, mockingugh.


    “Me, lose to you three losers? Not in a million years.”


    “Got some guts, I’ll give you that,” the slender manmented, shoving up his sleeves.


    “Too scared to name your stakes, huh?”


    A chorus ofughter followed, all three reveling in their bravado. And it wasn’t just those men who doubted Christina. The whole crowd seemed eager for a show, all waiting for her to fail spectacrly.


    Onlookers chimed in.


    “Stakes only for one side? That’s not fair!”


    “Ungrateful types are always shady. Pretty obvious, right?”


    “She couldn’t beat even one of them in a fair fight. Where does she find the courage to take on all three at once? When the showdown begins, I bet she’ll be the first to beg for mercy.”


    A thought suddenly struck Liza, snapping her out of her daze. Her gaze flickered anxiously over the watching crowd. Stepping forward in haste, she positioned herself between Christina and the three men. Her calcted words came out smoothly.


    “If you have a problem, bring it to me. Leave my daughter out of it. She’s done nothing wrong, and whatever she said came from frustration. There’s no need to take it to heart.”


    Of course, Liza didn’t mean a word of it. Her whole act of shielding Christina in front of the gathered crowd was nothing more than a tactic to sway her.


    But Liza had conveniently forgotten about exiling Christina to that foreign training camp years ago—a cruel act that had put the ten-year-old through brutal circumstances. There, Christina had brushed shoulders with death more than once, her heart overwhelmed by despair. Any hope of rekindling the fleeting warmth from her adoptive parents had long since vanished. After every close call with death, whatever love she had once held for the Jones family had withered into dust.


    Noting Christina’spleteck of reaction, Liza doubled down on her performance, her acting skills on full disy.


    “Just name your price. I’ll pay whatever you ask. Take it aspensation for my daughter’s impulsive outburst. I apologize on her behalf—please, forgive her.”


    For updates, visit ?αl?ov??s.co?


    She scanned the crowd, ensuring they took note of her reddened eyes and pleading expression, solidifying her image as a devoted mother—a powerful tool to guilt-trip Christinater.


    Somewhere in the back, a bystander sighed.


    “Parents always fret over their children, no matter the age.”


    The three men exchanged uncertain nces.


    “Exactly how much are you offering us?” the slender man asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.


    Liza thought for a beat, then finally answered,


    “Would fifty thousand each be enough?”


    .


    .


    .